Saviour - english
by Mechthild
Summary: A redvelvetpancakes-fanfic. Matthew only remembered how he went to bed. But didn't remember how he or someone else transported him - and his bed - in a abonded winter-wonderland. However, at first he had to survive before he could search for a way home.
1. Chapter 1

With eyelids and feet as heavy as lead, it was indeed difficult to remove shoes or even untie them. Matthew sat upright as a bag of potatoes on his bed and tried with growing frustration to untie his shoelaces. Even if he was tired like Kumajiro on the brink of winter hibernation, he refused to wear his shoes to bed. He always has a little bit form, it doesn't matter how tired he is.

He thought he will hit the ceiling, because the laces snarled up again and again. Luckily, he won the war after a few attempts and kicks the shoes off with a sense of relief and satisfaction. With a delightful sigh, Matthews head hits the pillow and he lolled himself laboriously in his blanket, before finally giving into sleep, a bright smile on his worn out face.

Perceived as if his slumber didn't last a second, as he was woken up by a wet-icy sting on his face. Promptly he opened his eyes, because a numb feeling doesn't bode well. He feared the worst. Indeed was the scenery, that he saw something completely different as Matthew thought it would be. But it was as bad as Matthews thought of a stroke.  
His eyes peered into an unfriendly, cloudy, grey sky, out of which enormous snowflakes flutter to the ground.  
"What the heck happened to my flat?"  
He looked to his left. An untouched, scenic winter forest framed the huge open space in the distance. No storyteller could have imagined a prettier winter landscape! But apparently Matthew could, for how else could he, along with his whole bed, have gotten teleported into this winter wonderland?  
"Where is my room? This must be a joke… Why would I dream something like this?"  
Incessantly the snowflakes, as big as the unsavoury glitter snowflakes for Christmas trees, are floating down on him. As they landed on his cheeks he knew that for a dream, they were way too cold.

A shiver went down his spine. His senses, sharpened through multiple wars, told him only one thing: get out of the falling snow; stay warm!  
This time his gear was bizarre. Admittedly he wore his old clothes – a sweater, long jeans and socks – but his shoes weren't teleported here. He also missed the essential toque. Matthew knew, he must not be finicky. Every second counts. And so he did something, which would be pretty hilarious for a bystander, if he had one.  
He pulled out the string of the sweater, put on the hood and tied his pillow as a cover over his head and ears. He striped the sheet off the mattress and ripped it in two pieces to wrap them around his feet. With the blanket worn as a cloak, he sat on his bed and deliberate whether the mattress will come in handy later. Sadly it was filled with metal springs and was partly wet. So he decided to leave it behind and started to tramp through the deep snow right to the woods.


	2. Chapter 2

His pants and the lower part of his duvet were completely soaked as he reached the tree line. The temperatures were merciless. The bone-chilling cold already made his legs shaking.  
The last thing Matthew needed to deal with was a panic attack so he tried strained to keep a clear head. At first he needed more waterproof shoes. He looked quickly through his surroundings, founding a tree with loose bark already curling off the trunk. And ripped it off.  
He was climbing the nearest, lowest hanging branch and stuffed the pieces of the bark as dense as possible in his sheet-roll shoes. Wrapping the duvet tighter around his shoulders, he tried to get an overview of his situation.

"So, Matthew, you don't have anything to eat, no useful equipment, no orientation and therefore nearly no chance to get out of here without dying - except a hermit would have abandoned his hut nearby. But…" He looked around him. The pitched black boles dabbed by the scattered, powdery snow, the verdurous needles, lurking through the heavy snow, were surrounding him. Through the trees he spotted his bed on the wide snowfield. It was going to be slowly snowed in like everything else in this place.  
If Matthew didn't know any better he imagined that all of this white was soft cotton wool. And the loveliest off all was the soft silence of this untouched place, which surrounded him, embraced him, smothered him. The white clouds formed by his breath were thinning in the cold air.  
Just for a moment the world was at peace, as if time had stopped entirely.  
Exactly this feeling was so enthralling, yet so calming. The feeling Matthew had fallen in love with. It was just the same as the sensation he felt in the snowy north of his beloved country.  
Canada.

He gazed over the landscape, when an inconsistency in this perfection caught his eye.  
"A tree stump?!"  
Even though the stump was nearly completely covered with snow, but it was clearly a stump. At least some sort of it - it had an unnatural look to it  
"Why is it so flat… as if it was-" felled!  
Tree harvester! Rescue! Even if they aren't working at this time of the year, their camp must be nearby!

Hurriedly he tied his provisional snowshoe, made of big bark pieces, around his feet and hurried in the direction of the stump.

The way the tree harvester must had worked was odd. Soon Matthew found further tree stumps, from trees that had clearly been felled, but all of them were standing occasionally in the woods. As if they shouldn't stand out too much, and shouldn't influence the environment. What a laudable act. But which company would do such a thing?

Soon he questioned if truly a company felled these trees. At best it was one single tree harvester. But what could he do with so less trees in the wild nature? There was no street, which could be used by trucks or cars anyway. Everything was shrouded in this soft, untouched white. Everything. In whatever direction he looked. Everything was white. No sign of animals, no noise, no footprints. Panic started to nag in Matthews chest.

He couldn't feel his legs anymore and his face went numb. The forest was getting thicker and thicker, with every step he took. He felt so small in this infinity of same looking trees. He was trapped inside his own cold coffin, his deadly beautiful coffin. Just a few snowflakes braked through the roof made of the crowns of the trees, so also the blanket of snow, was just knee-deep. This was an advantage since he could walk more easily now. Unluckily it didn't last that long. The numbness of his feet and legs made every step shaky and horribly painful as a walk over nails. With his shaking body he had to try hard to not fall down with every single step.

The only thing, which kept him moving forward were the tree stumps. And with their ever-increasing number he found himself walking even faster.

"Keep moving, further, further! You are going to find the camp. For certain." Matthew tried to encourage himself.

He noticed subconsciously that the shadows grew longer. Ignoring the fact, that nightfall was near and with it his certain death, he concentrated desperately on the pace between the trees, in the hope of spotting any sign of a camp.  
Suddenly he recognised too many tree-trunks for too less tree-crowns. The dead limbs of his only moved on due to his pure will, he hurried stumbling to a small hut in the middle of nowhere.


	3. Chapter 3

The hut was tiny and plain, but promised draught-free shield and a fireplace. Matthew's shaking arms and hands made it almost impossible to open the door, which was barred by three wooden bolts.

He rushed into the hut and closed the door behind him quickly. Hastily he searched for a fireplace. As he found it, he ripped all of his wet clothes off, he stumbled to it and gripped the flints next to the hearth. He cursed, because he continually hit his finger, and barely emitted sparks. But he didn't give up until finally the brushwood was parked off. As carefully as possible he poke the little flame, till it was big enough to burn on his own.  
The flame ate one log after another. The heat felt painful on Matthews skin. As he would be the log laying at the fireplace. But he couldn't move away, he have to stay near by the fire, praying none of his limbs was frostbitten.

While he was sitting shiveringly by the fireplace he inspected the hut he had broken into. It was furnished quite spartanic but didn't seems cold or plain. A comfy-looking, slim bed was on his right, near the fireplace. It was covered with wool blankets and fur. A sturdy wooden desk and a matching chair stood at the wall across from to the door. The remaining wall was covered in shelfs filled with books, dishes, a few photos. Matthew couldn't see what was in them as they were too far away. There was also a chess game with self-made figures ready to be played stored in the shelf.

 _'Playing chess all alone? How sad.'_ It reminded Matthew of his poor attempts to play officer's skat against himself. It wasn't crowned with success.  
A wardrobe, a deposit of more logs and low cupboards, which apparently were kind of a kitchen, completed the furnishing of the hut.

Slowly and painfully all of Matthews fingers and toes thawed. Even if they hurt like they were on fire and an elephant stepped on them, it took a load of his mind as he could move every single one of them.


	4. Chapter 4

The hut looked like somebody was still living in there, so its owner had to be somewhere around this place.

He stood up from his seat by the fireplace to make his way to the wardrobe.  
Although Matthew hated to commit a crime he had to make some clothes his own as he didn't want to die. He would be frozen to death at the time his clothes were dried. Also he would have to leave the hut to search for something eatable. So his equipment made of a set of bedclothes is more than unsuitable.  
Searching for food was the next thing he didn't look forward to. Because the only way to get food in winter was hunting.

As he, by pure chance, he spotted a hatch under the table his legs buckled and he stooped to the hatch's level.  
His head bursted in pain and he suffocated as if all oxygen in the room was gone in a flash. A panicky coughing bout followed until he throwed up again. He writhed himself fiercely on the floor. But the invisible hand torturing his head and clamping his throat, was merciless and its grasp was like iron.

Just to let go of him the next second. One rattling breath filled Matthews lungs again - his head was freed. As if nothing had happened. Matthews confusion was beyond words.

Exhausted he pulled himself together and got on his feet. Leaving his vomit where it was he continued to make his way to the wardrobe. His survival instincts were ruling his mind at this point, but a little grin escaped his lips as he saw the inside of the wardrobe. Furry winter coats and enormous boots, looking as if they're made for a bear' feet, and particularly lumberjack shirts were all over the place. It was so stereotypical.  
He chose the most worn out clothes. _'When I have to steal his clothes I will choose the ones he won't miss.'_  
He put on an old jeans, which was surprisingly well-fitting, but the shirt was way too big. He would have fitted in in about two times.

His stomach reported Matthew his need for food, so he went to the desk and just barely moved it from its spot. _'Really. When somebody can move this desk multiple times a day it must be a bear living here!'_  
To his cost the hatch wasn't any lighter. Gasping as if he had run a marathon, he made his way down to the cellar. And promptly his mouth began watering. Piles of apples, potatoes, peas and other storable fruits were laying around. Even hanging meat was stored here. Matthew, still abiding to his own persuasions, only picked some fruits up and went back to the room. With unrestrained greed he ate the fruits, his stomach grumbling thankfully.

Slowly the stress of having to survive left his body which eased Matthews mind so he could survey his situation. What would he do if the owner of the hut would came back? When he would see that a stranger broke in his home? Would he have sympathy or would he view Mathew as a threat? By the way, where was the owner? It was in the middle of the night! The glance out of the window also reminded him of his own tiredness. The unexpected adventure - for whatever reason he was sent to this place - was wearing him down like the heat wears down a flower in the desert.  
He dragged himself in the foreign bed, burying himself under a bunch of blankets and hides. The last thing he noticed, right before he felled asleep by the dying light of the embers, was that the bed smelled sweet.


	5. Chapter 5

The firm grip of the invisible hand woke Matthew up roughly. He fought for air desperately but no matter how hard he tried, the oxygen never reached his lungs. He tossed away all of the all of the blankets and fur hoping he could then breathe more easily. But it doesn't help a bit. He coughed so hard until he vomited again. His eyes busted into tears, water ran out of his nose and mouth. His whole body struggled hard in order to get rid of the strangling intruder. But he was too strong… Yet disappeared just as fast as he manifested.

Matthew trembled with exertion. Tortured by something he could not imagine, he laid next to the bed in fear… No. He was horrified. Therefore disturbing thoughts took over his head.  
 _'Is this a sign that my country is in danger? Did I missed something? Overlooked something? Why now of all times, when I'm trapped in the middle of nowhere? Besides, where is the hut owner anyway? Did something happened to him? I must find him! But it's useless to search him in the dark. I'll only get lost. I hope he found a cave or something like that as a shelter for the night. But in my miserable shape, I can't help him. It's impossible. I vomited on his floor and stole his food and clothes. Please be alive, when I'll find you. I beg you.'_  
The stench of the vomit tainted the whole air in the hut. Matthew tried to wipe it from the floor as far as possible before he heaved himself in the bed once again.  
He was so stricken, his body felt heavy as cement. But even he couldn't do anything for the owner in his condition. He fell asleep with remorse.

"Hopefully, the first rays of sunshine are going to wake me up."


	6. Chapter 6

The next time Matthew woke up, dawn already passed and he felt a bit better. He didn't waste another second as he noticed he was fit enough to walk.

Fully equipped Matthew stepped out into the snow. "I can exclude the direction I came from. I didn't see a cave or a hideout", he discussed with himself. He didn't know in which direction to go. He looked around him to spot a hint about the owners whereabouts, but the white didn't disclosed anything. "I cannot wait any longer." Matthew simply walked randomly in one direction full of doubts if he chose the right one.

In regular intervals he carved arrows in the trees, just to know in which direction he already went. Way too much time passed as he walked through the ever same-looking forest. The only thing that evidenced any life were the spare footprints of animals, which had broken the even surface of the snow. As always in a forest, you can find the prints but never the animal itself. As if they were phantoms.  
Matthew searched without a rest for hints of the existence of a human. Where could the owner have gone?  
He found more tree stumps and a running stream, which fought against him freezing over. And also some firs growing awry and crumbling under the heavy weight of the snow. Now they're resting broken in the snow, like an meaningful artwork.  
Matthew never felt cold, because he propelled himself to hurry. The man could freeze to death every second. Matthew was sure something bad happened to the owner of the hut. He would have noticed for sure if a man had crossed his path. And the owner would have probably walked back to his hut as the sun had risen.

Suddenly he stumbled over something which wasn't a root. He saw that he picked a toque up with his snowshoe.  
A first hint!  
It confirmed, that something unforeseen happened to the man. Nobody would left his toque behind freely. Not in this environment. "Where is the human you clothed?", he asked the toque without receiving an answer.  
He looked around him more precisely. Nothing than the forest and snow, but… wait… A few meters next to Matthew laid a recently broken off fir. The piles of snow around it were still bulky, as they felled down not long ago. Broken branches stuck out of them and one particularly unlikely one.

"Oh no! A boot!" detected Matthew by looking closer to it. He found the owner of the hut! It must be him!


	7. Chapter 7

Matthew ran as fast as possible, fell on his knees and scooped quickly the loose snow away from the human body.

"HELLO? CAN YOU HEAR ME?" he yelled so loud, that no animal would dare to come near this place for a long time.

Soon he hit upon something harder than snow. A man's shoulder. Frantically he revealed the man's head. His face was nearly fully hooded with a scarf but the uncovered parts of the face were clearly tinged in blue.

"Please no! Hello? Can you hear me?" Matthew repeated himself. He took the strangers face in his hands and hit his face gently.  
"Please wake up! Please!" Matthew begged. At the same time he freed the stranger's torso from snow, so he could breathe easier, if he was still able to do so.

The fir fell on the stranger in an unfortunate way. It buried nearly the whole body of the stranger from the belly downwards, even his arms were caged by the branches. The only good thing about it was that none of the branches made their way through the man's fur jacked.  
"Please answer me, please!" Matthew was on the verge of tears. ' _Such a gruesome death nobody deserves.'_ If Matthew only could take the man's place. As he know, he could not die.

He looked back to the man's face and recoil with a little screech. The stranger's eyes, which had focused on nothing real before, now stared directly at Matthew, as he were an abnormal being. His brown eyes showed bare disbelief. For a second Matthew felt relived but the danger were still at hand. If he loosed focus now, the man will surely die.

"You are still alive, how lucky. I'm going to retrieve you from here, don't worry. Blink if you understand me."

The eyelids of the man closed and opened incredibly slowly. Matthew noticed that even the man's eyelashes were frozen. Blinking must be awfully painful.

"Good. Please listen, you must stay awake. At best concentrate on my voice."

While he was speaking he started with, sadly, practised handling to shovel the snow surrounding the man away. Next, he tried to get is hand beneath the man's torso to remove some snow therewith he could pull him out eventually.  
In this situation he wished Alfred was here or Matthew could at least borrow his superhuman strength. Then it would be easy to lift the fir and throw it away.  
Matthew had absolutely no idea what to say. His mind was totally blank. There was only the urge to free the man from his snowy grave.  
Matthew decided to simply introduce himself as he couldn't come up with something convenient.

"My name Matthew Williams. Actually I live in Ottawa and I have no idea how I got here. But your hut saved my life. Please excuse me that I had to borrow some clothes and something to eat from you. So… um… Now I will try to pull you out."

The words just fell out of his mouth. He babbled randomly to just say something. Even though the man – in such situation – wasn't interested if some of his apples were missing.

As if it was everyday practice, Matthew gripped under the man's arms while pressing his feet deep in the snow.  
And pulled as powerful as he could.  
The stranger just moved a few inches – a humiliating result for Matthew as he trembled in exertion.

But giving up was not an option. Once again he shovelled the snow under the stranger's body away and made sure his arms weren't stuck between the branches.  
It took Matthew two more attempts until he could free the stranger. Matthew's whole body hurt. With his drenched clothes the stranger was even heavier.  
"I made it! So please keep on fighting! I'll take you to your hut. Please stay awake whatever it might cost!"  
Matthew could barely lift the stranger across his shoulder on his back. He wanted to transport him so he could hold onto the man's arms which hang beside Matthews head. The stranger only groaned powerlessly.  
' _Damn it! He doesn't shake anymore. He must get in a warm place as soon as possible!'_  
With the man on his back Matthew sank even deeper in the massive piles of snow and only moved forward painfully slow. Too slow. Matthew panicked.  
 _'If Alfred was here!'_  
Matthew recognised embittered that he wouldn't be able to make it without his brother. Again.  
That's why he got even more desperate and furious. He was furious at himself, his weakness, his helplessness.  
He clenched his teeth and tried to hurry up.  
 _'Why am I so useless, when someone needs help? His life is in my hands! Now pull through it Matthew Williams!'_


	8. Chapter 8

His tights burned and the cold bit his face. Suddenly he had placed his feet slightly unsafely and Matthew lost his balance. Unchecked they plummeted into the deep snow.

"FU**!"

Matthew rarely swears, but right now he couldn't helped himself. He got on his feet a moment later und looked to the man. He laid next to Matthew helplessly and motionlessly and looked at him with a soft gaze. It showed pure gratitude and, somewhat, apology. Afterwards they focussed nothing which was visible for a living being. Without a doubt, the man was doing his last breaths right now.

"No!" The word left Matthews mouth like a begging prayer. But it had no one to reach to.  
His power was drained from his body and left his limbs in a complete numbness. Like they lost their will to move. Matthew understand. There was no reason appearing strong anymore. Matthew let the man die.

In this moment of agony the invisible hand stroked once again and nearly crushed his throat. Matthew tipped over into the snow and writhed in a hopeless attempt to free himself from the torturing grip.  
The time, until the grip disappeared, seemed almost like an eternity. Painfully, Matthew took a deep breath in. The cold sharpened the air like knives leaving many cuts in his lungs.

Matthew mourned for the stranger. The fact that Matthew failed miserably to help somebody in need felt like a hard punch in his stomach. It was a devastating feeling.  
He sat up, his arms laying powerless on his lap and he glanced one more time to the man, he let die on him. Matthew couldn't even bury him in this place as the ground was completely frozen.

All of a sudden something happened with the stranger, which he would have never imaged.

The blue coloured skin of the man got slowly back to normal and a spark of life flashed over his eyes.  
'That's not possible. I was sure that I saw him die except he…'  
The stranger rolled himself on his side and saw with worrying eyes, that Matthew stared at him in shock – mouth and eyes wide open. Embitter the man croaked: "Shit."  
Matthews mouth moved again. "You… aren't… dead… aren't you?" This was everything he could produce.  
"F***" sweared the stranger again and made a move to get up.

Who or what did Matthew have in front of him?

"I'm truly sorry…" croaked the living, dead man and attempted to get himself on his feet, but they gave in quickly. Therefore he fell back into the snow like a stone.

It doesn't matter what he was, he was in a terrible condition. Matthew shook his head to come back to his senses.  
"What are you doing? I don't know what happened right now, but we must get back to the hut. Immediately!"  
The man didn't move and also didn't resist as Matthew pulled him on his back again.

They continued to make their way to the hut, fighting against the snow and the cold. Step by step.


	9. Chapter 9

Totally worn out, Matthew dropped the man carefully on his bed. Without asking the man for permission Matthew began stripping off the man's clothes.

At first he unwind the faded green scarf on the head. Beneath it emerged shoulder-long, stubborn, blond hair as well as a beardless angular face. Everything seemed okay, Matthew couldn't find any frostbitten spots or chilblains.  
As he scrutinized the man's face he felt in particular oddly. It was one of these instinctive certainties telling you immediately that you like this person. It wasn't rational at all but nevertheless you know for sure.

In order to remain upright the man used obviously all of his strength. And still, he regularly swayed forward or backward. But also refused to lay down – probably to help Matthew with the undressing of the soaked wet clothes.  
After Matthew had gotten the man out of his fur jacked, pullover – made of heavy and greasy wool – and black and red lumberjack-shirt Matthew examined the upper body of the man. There were also no frostbitten spots, but he sadly recognised many bare scars all over the torso.  
'Living out here must be really rough. Has he gotten these wounds through bears? Why did he chose this life by his own free will?' Matthew asked himself throughout the examination until he finally started to pull off the enormous boots. The knee-high, laced boots were the next big effort of strength.  
During the whole procedure both of them remained silent even though the stranger observed every single one of Matthews movements. An indeed awkward situation for Matthew.

"Do you have a tub here?" asked Matthew eventually to escape the unpleasant silence. "No", croaked the stranger – barely understandable. "A pot? Or something similar?" "Bear basket. Wood." His voice broke a few times, "Kettle. Pan." "It won't help much but it's better than nothing", answered Matthew.

After he had taken off the man's pants Matthew put a toque on the stranger's head and placed him under furs and blankets. He also undressed his own outdoor clothes to move easier around and started to light a fire. All of this happened under the man's vigilant observation.  
'Must he stare at me all the time?' Matthew tried to ignore the blank stares as much as possible.

In the cupboards he found a tripod to arrange it over the fireplace and he also found a pan and placed it over the open fire. Thereupon, he spread all of the wet clothes on the floor and the chair to dry them overnight. His own clothes and bedclothes had already dried the night before.

Slowly the hut was heating up till it was snugly inside. Then the silence was broken by a loud growling - Matthew didn't eat anything the whole day. Embarrassed he pack out his provisions he had taken with him on the search in case it would have last longer. He offered one apple to the stranger, who nodded. Therefore he peeled it, ate the skin himself, and cut it in tiny pieces. Sitting at the stranger's bed he helped him up and the man tried to move his arm – but the arm didn't respond.  
 _'Great, another awkward thing to do. As if I haven't undressed him already.'_ , Matthew thought to himself.  
"In that case I have to feed you." He said it like it was just a fact, trying not to embarrass not more than necessary. _'Avoid eye contact. Don't sight. Don't get red. Try to keep a clear face. Oh dear, why me?'  
_ Now, for the first time, the stranger showed some real expressions. His eyes widen and you could feel his embarrassment.  
"Just one apple. I won't tell anyone." Matthew showed a coy smile. The man's lips formed a powerless smile as a response and he gave in. "So, please open your mouth." Obediently the man opened the mouth several times until the whole apple disappeared.


	10. Chapter 10

'The pan must be hot enough by now.' He placed the pan between the blankets as if it was a provisional hot-water bottle. Then, after the man had been provided, Matthew himself ate something and searched a good place to sleep this night as the bed was obviously taken. Therefore the floor had to be good enough for him. Matthew was already looking forward to his backaches the next morning.  
He took his bedclothes and mourned after his mattress, which rested peacefully - covered in snow - on the glade.

He sighted. _'By the way, what is this odd situation? Why am I here? And how? Is this now a dream or not?'_  
"Matthew?" a whisper came from the other corner of the hut.  
"Yeah? Everything's alright? Should I warm up the pan again?" Instantly he stood next to the bed and looked at the man worried.

"Sleep… here…" Matthew couldn't kept his face. He didn't have that big fears of contacts, but he didn't know this man and he… he...

… was subcooled. Matthew glanced over to the fireplace. It was burned down and the embers glowed only weakly.  
"Alright." Matthew picked up his pillow and crawled under the blankets.  
The skin of the man was still cool but his breathing was regular. _'After this night he should be better. Maybe he also can move his limbs more properly. He seems really tough.'_ Matthew eased his mind and turned his back to the man, still feeling his stares in the neck.

 _'_ _AHH, if he would stop staring at me! Or at least told me why!'_  
Matthew was waiting until he no longer felt the nagging stare in his back, hearing the slightly buzzing breath of the sleeping man. Then, he let himself fall asleep as well.


	11. Chapter 11

Matthew woke up as the cold winter sun stroked gently his nose.

 _'_ _It's already daylight?'_. He blinked a few times to get the sleep out of his eyes and recognised that he had three arms. Or at least it seemed so. Without his glasses he was blind as a mole. Therefore he tried to angle for his glasses, which laid on the floor, as the third arm suddenly pulled Matthew away. A surprised sound left Matthews mouth and he moved his head to see what's going on.

 _'_ _AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!'_ yelled his inner voice, as his fear came true. The stranger cuddled up to him. Mind you, that he was naked. Matthew tried too loose the grip of the arm, but it didn't even move an inch.  
 _'You were nearly dead yesterday, so can you please again be weak like that?'_ A sleepy groan from behind him was the answer and the arm pulled Matthew even tighter at the stranger.  
 _'If he keep pulling me like this, I won't be able to breath. Well, then in another way: Rise and shine!'  
_ "Good morning!" said Matthew louder than always. "How are you today?"  
Now the cuddler seemed to wake up fully and appeared to recognize what he was doing in that moment. He laid so close to Matthew that he even buried his face in whose hair.

With lightning speed the arm disappeared and the stranger tried to move away from Matthew as far as it was possible in this bed. Just as fast, Matthew got up from the bed and nervously put on his glasses.  
"I will look for something to eat… In the basement."  
It must have looked entertaining how Matthew struggled to open the heavy trapdoor, even though he put all of his effort in it. (He didn't move the desk back to its place over the trapdoor as he was reliant on his back for a while longer)  
Matthew only wanted to get somewhere else as fast as possible and as far as possible in this tiny hut.

In the basement it was is cold and gloomy which made a chill go down Matthew's spine. Filled with embarrassment he sat down on a step and buried his head in his arms.  
 _'What was that?'_ He felt his face was burning red, an uncomfortable heat burned on his cheeks.  
 _'Dear god, how can I face him ever again? He… he… He snuggled up to me as…'_ You could almost see Matthews head boiling and steaming as he remembered the scene. He also tried to hit the thoughts out of his head with his hands.

 _'_ _No, I have to stay realistic and concentrated. I have to make something to eat. A broth wouldn't be bad. I always got a broth when I was ill.'_  
On the hooks there was only one leg and some bones, with little meat on them left. _'The meat wouldn't last long for two people.',_ he noticed but till went for the two bones. He also searched for some roods and vegetables. He wasn't confident to find some of them here but got surprised as he found them in a small shelf - and not even less of them. He was impressed. How the man got so many different food here in this wilderness was a mystery to Matthew. But he didn't complain about it.  
He was reluctant to go up again. However, what needs to be done, must be done. He couldn't barricade himself down here. It would be even more awkward.  
One deep breath taken and then Matthew climbed the ladder up into the hut once again.


	12. Chapter 12

Of course the stranger stared at him directly as Matthew came back.  
 _'He doesn't make things better!'_ he got fed up with the stranger and as couldn't helped it his face turned red again. The, also red-faced, man recognized how uncomfortable Matthew looked and consequently stared quickly at the ceiling. In a hoarse baritone-voice he said: "I'm sorry."  
"Everything's fine", stammered Matthew and put on a winter jacket. "I'll get some water."  
"Stay safe", the man answered and Matthew felt warmly happy. _'Despite that he looks really bold, he seems to be a really nice guy.'  
_ Matthew took a wooden bucket with him and went outside into the snow, to find the stream again, he saw he day before.  
On his way he got lost in his thoughts: _'Why is he out here on his own? Is he a gamekeeper? But I didn't see a telephone in the hut and it is barely possible to get here by a vehicle. Did he choose to live here, because he's immortal? Good grief… Do I really want to know? It's none of my business. When he's back on his feet again, I hope he can take me to a town. But for that he must become healthy again… though I doubt it will take this long. Except of his bad habit to stare through one's body he seem really nice. I won't have too many problems with him until he's healthy again.'_ Matthew smirked as he dragged the heavy water-bucket back to the hut.

As Matthew entered the hut again the stranger was till staring at the roof, causing Matthew to not being able to hide his grin.  
 _'He is so helpless and has no idea how to act. Kind of likeable.'_ Matthew placed the bucked loudly on the ground. "Are you alright. Ehm… what was your name again?' Right, he didn't even asked for the man's name.  
"Ehm… yes. My name is Matt. Matt Williams.", the man stammered clumsily. _'He almost has the same name as me? What a coincidence.'_ Thought Matthew.  
"Nice to meet you, Matt." Matts glance scurried quickly to Matthew and then back to the roof. Obviously he didn't expected an answer. "Me too."

Matthew was more and more amused by Matt's reactions. He was clearly out of his depth with thatt somebody took care of him and was nice to him. He seemed so stable - which he had to be in the wilderness - and now he swayed like a man standing on his hands on a water-bed. Matthew knew he would persuade Matt to talk to him as he found himself really curious about the story behind the bear-like lumberjack-shirt-fan.  
It felt like an unavoidable suction dragging him to Matt. What kind of suction it was, he could not tell.


	13. Chapter 13

The broth bubbled over the fireplace. The hour it would be ready was a perfect opportunity. Matthew cleared up the ground and piled the dried clothes back into the wardrobe. To find a subject he can talk about with Matt so that he might get to know something about him he examined the wall made of one big shelf.  
He found books – old classics – he knew, but also many books he saw for the first time. But recent was none of them. Then he noticed a few photographs, without frames and with many rips in their rims, laying on one of the boards.  
Each one of them showed one man, who couldn't be even more different. The first picture showed a thoroughly fit guy with tanned, as if he would sleep every night in a solarium than in a bed. His arms were, instead of being covered by his tank top, covered in tattoos. His hair was obviously coloured in a dark brown with an unnatural tinge of red. Matthew couldn't recognize the guy's face completely as huge, dark sunglasses hid it. With a fake veteran necklace around his neck and a baseball bat in one hand, he is posing aggressively in front of the camera.  
 _'Somehow he reminds me of Alfred - a trained and tanned Alfred. Probably because of the similar hair and the face I can't see clearly.'_

The second picture showed a man who obviously didn't pose for a camera. The thin man was looking down on the cigarette he was lighting up. His face was gaunt and angular, adorned by an unthreatened designer stubble. His hairstyle was odd, as well. The dirty-blond hairs fell curly to his chin but at the backside of his head they were cut short. He wore the shirt sloppily but his trousers clearly belonged to a dark grey suit. Even through the picture his constantly annoyed aura came out.

As he saw the third picture Matthew almost laughed out loud. In it there was a pastel-coloured Arthur in a short sleeved pullover who was grinning cheerfully straight into the camera.

 _'_ _How are these odd birds related to one another? And how are they related to someone like Matt?'_ Matthew asked himself to subsequently ask Matt too.

"Matt?" Matthew didn't looked up as he went to the bed. "Who are they?" Matt looked at the pictures and attempted to find words.  
"The tanned one is my brother. Alex or Allen. He constantly wants to be called by another name." "Your brother? How siblings can differ…" _'Even though Alfred and I look nearly alike.'_  
Matt continued: "The colourful one… yeah… who is he? I would say he's a friend of my father who was usually taking care of us. His name's Oliver." "So this is your father?" Matthew hold up the picture of the smoker. "Yes. Francois." "Why was Oliver the one taking care of you most of the time?". Matthew dig deeper in the topic. It reminded him a little bit on his own childhood, but Francis was shut out by Arthur and that really consequently.

"He wasn't interested in us." Revealed Matt and Matthew immediately empathized with him. He was quite familiar with this feeling of being ignored by the people you love the most – it is unbelievable gruelling.

"Is that why you live out here?" Matthew sat down on the bed. He didn't want to stand above somebody.  
"No. No. I like being alone. People in towns or villages only use you for their own benefit. They don't have respect. They're disgusting and greedy."  
This statement of Matt was like an unexpected punch in the face. Matthew didn't even dare asking further questions as Matt said this so full of hate and aversion.


	14. Chapter 14

Matt's hands were balled to fists and his face was made of stone. An overwhelming silence came over the hut, the air in it became heavy and sticky.  
 _'Is this the reason why Matt always keep an eye on me? Due to pure suspicion? Did he really think I will do him any harm?'_ Sad and hurt Matthew got up from the bad and placed the photographs back into the shelf. It was surprising that someone could hate humanity so much that his nearly dead limbs shivered in rage. What happened to Matt? Did he also hate Matthew? But he seemed to be so nice to him, they even shared… _'Okay. I don't want to remind me of this.'_  
"But Matthew…", continued Matt after a while of silence. Matthew turned slowly around. As Matt's statement had offended him, Matthew's answer sounded sharper than he planned.

"Yes?"

"But if a few people were like you, I would return." Matt constantly looked on his hands and Matthew stand there glued to the spot.  
 _'What should I answer to that?'_ Matthew's heart skipped a beat and his brain stopped working. He didn't know if he should felt dumbfounded, flattered, uneasy or taken by surprise. In order to respond something to this straight forward avowal he stuttered a simply: "Thanks"

"I must thank you. You saved my live though you could have taken my hut and would have survived winter safely."  
Matthew didn't respond to this. He didn't share the same concept Mad had of humanity but didn't want to argue with an ill man.

A loud hissing broke the situation. The broth overboiled. Matthew immediately hang it a few steps away from the open fire until the broth calmed down. He tasted it and filled it in a bowl. Than he set next to Matt and asked: "Can you move your arms again?" Matt raised his right arm slowly and attempted to hold the spoon Matthew handed to him. He could hold it, but just in a fist.

 _'_ _His fine motor skills aren't working well'_ , concluded Matthew simply and as Matts arm began to shake Matthew decided Matt wasn't able to eat by himself.

Without wasting anymore words he took the spoon out of Matts hand, whereat Matt was none too happy. He was a prideful man having lived nearly a century alone, without any major help, in this rough area and now he must be fed. You could also see it, because there wasn't an embarrassed Matt, who struggled for words, in front of Matthew, but rather a proud, independent hermit, who left civilisation for good.

Merely sulking


	15. Chapter 15

Nevertheless Matt complimented Matthews cooking skills and Matthew thanked him politely. But after that, they didn't spoke another word. Both of them were lost in their own thoughts. And both of them weren't very talkative persons.

Matthew wasn't the only one who is interested in the past life of the other one. As Matthew did the dishes he almost dropped everything when Matt asked him: "Do you have a family?"

"Oh… ehm… family? Yes! Funnily likewise you." Matthew confidently left out the fact, that they are nations. "I have also a brother. A twin brother actually. If… I mean… I don't know my mother. I was raised by two fathers, but one of them wasn't often around in my childhood. However, he is at my home as much more nowadays."  
 _'Papa, Arthur, Alfred… Are they searching for me right now or didn't they noticed I'm away, yet? I mean I have been only away for around two days.'_

Matthew felt down as he thought about it.

"Can you hunt, Matthew?" asked Matt sober. Matthew screwed up his face. He hated hunting, killing in general, he had had to do it too many times. But the meat in the basement is going to run out in near future and who knows when Matt will be back on his feet. He needed it.

"To be honest: Yes, I can hunt but I despise it more than anything else." Having said this, he took the bucket with the dirty wash-water and left the hut to pour it at a suitable spot. As he entered the hut again and placed the bucket in a corner Mathew noticed that Matt reached out to him with a shaky hand and pleased him to set next to him. Matthew followed his request.

"Your hand." Matthew let him do it without questioning it as he didn't know what to do otherwise and because he was curious about what Matt wanted to know.

Matt took the hand and surveyed it a bit. "I will do it.", was the conclusion of his examination. Promptly Matthew had a guilty conscience. Just because he didn't like to do something he will cause problems to Matt. Matt definitely couldn't go hunting in the near future and having enough to eat in the house is essential for survival. Matthew get caught in snowstorms way too often. So only he was able to hunt.

"No Matt, I'll go. It will take a while longer, until you're back on your feet."

"No.", interrupted Matt Matthew resolutely. "Your hands aren't met to kill." Matthew wanted to object but held still as Matt held Matthew's hand in his both raw, wiry hands - as if it was a frail butterfly.

"Your hands" Matt slowly began to talk, "shouldn't be drenched in blood - ever."

Matthew gasped sharply and a big knot formed inside his stomach. He just sat there, unable to move and watched what happened next.  
Matts face went soft and he lifted Matthews hand gently to his cheek. Matthews stomach tightened even more and his whole body was applied to power. Now he felt the - due to the weather - roughed skin of Matts face. It was covered with tiny stubbles and healed scars and Matthew also felt the immense heat Matt sent out.  
Matthew didn't dared to move, to be honest, he didn't felt an urge to do so. Who would have thought Matt could be so caressing?

 _'_ _What happens here?'_ he asked himself, _'I haven't even known him for two days and I feel so close to him. Like a close friend.'_  
The thoughts stopped. Matt rose his head, Matthews hand still on his cheek, and looked at him with the most honest eyes Matthew knew. And, in that moment, they were filled with affection.  
 _'A long-lasting close friend. Really?'_ Matthew blushed.  
 _'I saved his life, perhaps it is just affection, which will be gone after a few days. Moreover I'm the first human being he met after a long time._ _It can't be real, not after such a short time.'_ He sighted inwardly. _'You must watch out Matthew, you always tend to be easily twisted around ones finger.'_ He started avoiding eye contact with Matt but didn't take his hand away from Matt's cheek.

Suddenly he winced, a shiver went down his whole body and both of them recoiled from another.

Matt had attempted to cautiously touch Matthew's cheek. The spot on his cheek burned like a flame. It was really hot inside the hut. Matthew breathed rapidly and felt like he is getting even hotter.  
 _'This is bad. Really, really bad!'_ He stood up fast and searched for an alibi: "Do you want another bowl of broth? I'll warm it up."  
A short pause followed.  
"Gladly."


	16. Chapter 16

Matthew stirred the fire and hang the kettle over it once again. As he churned the broth he began to think about his situation again.  
 _'It didn't matter anyway if I would imagine anything. I have commitments which I can never neglect. Even if I wanted to.'_  
Matthew shook his head rapidly.  
 _'Still wrong, Williams - completely wrong! After Matt will be well again - what should be soon if he recovers so fast - I must get home as fast as possible. And that is the right decision.'_

He secretly looked over at Matt, who, again, looked with an unreadable expression at the roof.

 _'_ _That's right. He is just this way, 'cause I saved his life. Just because of this.'_

After they had eaten the sun went down slowly, but none of them could or wanted to sleep. Matthew suggested to play chess and placed it on the bed. As long as he was staying here, he never intended to move the desk again.  
Matt turned out to be an unconquerable opponent. The whole atmosphere relaxed, although the matches were short and quite one-sided.  
"Matt! You should definitely play against my dads. You'd be such a hard opponent! I haven't won a single match."  
"But you played well." Was Matt's short answer. He also seemed to be more relaxed as he was able to concentrate on something completely different, although his face gave nothing away.

They played match after match deep into the night, which was a good sign that Matt was recovering. He didn't get tired easily.  
But every day has an end and a yawn of Matt initiated it. So Matthew shelved the game and stopped laying logs into the fire.


	17. Chapter 17

Matthew couldn't sleep in the bed again – not under any circumstances. Matt obviously was no longer undercooled, therefore Matthew settled for the chair. He informed Matt, who asked about his decision and placed himself into the chair, rolled up in his blanket. As Matt didn't objected so Matthew waited until his companion fell asleep in order to then allow himself to close his eyes.

And woke up lying flat – in the bed.  
 _'Why?!'_ , he wondered frantically. The daybreak sent a weak light in the hut that enabled him to analyse his situation.

Next to him there was Matt sleeping blissfully with his back turned to Matthew.  
Matthew could imagine what kind of situation might have happened last night. He laid in the bed rolled in his blanket-burrito and this time he faced the wall. Matt had put him in the bed. _'Did he lie about his health yesterday? How was he able put me in bed, when he couldn't move his chess figures properly yesterday? And of course he must put me next to the wall! Now I can't get up without waking him! Damn it.'  
_ The circumstances made Matthew wanting to tear his hair out. It was apparently very difficult to stay away from a person in such a small hut – even when you tried your best.  
 _'And it is impossible, if the other person doesn't even want it.'_ Thought Matthew and sighted. _'Is Matt unware of it? Doesn't it cross his mind that I have to get back home? If I only could read his mind!'_ After a while of puzzling himself he came to the conclusion that he wasn't at all able to measure up Matt- he was actually completely unable to do so.

Just as Matthew tried to get back to sleep – as this time he didn't want to be the person who woke the other one – Matt stirred. Promptly Matthew pretended to be asleep and shut his eyes. Based on the movements that followed Matt must have turned around and sit up. Matthew's nervousness increased evermore because he couldn't tell what Matt intended to do and he adjudged his behaviour as awkwardly childish.  
Matthew almost startled as Matt gently put his hand on Matthews head and stroked his hair. Matthew got goosebumps and rolled up. He turned his head to Matt - his face being clearly red. These shivers were scary and completely unprecedented for Matthew. Matt just merely touched him!

Matt looked at Matthew and greeted him with a simple: "Good morning." His expression was completely blank.  
"Morning.", said Matthew agitatedly. Matt still didn't wear anything except the toque, which Matthew put on his head. This matter of fact didn't particularly improve the situation.

"How did I get here?" asked Matthew shyly. Matt's expression became somewhat perplexed. "You don't know? You fell from the chair and laid on the ground, shivering. So I put you in the bed."  
 _'Sounds like me.'_ Agreed Matthew. He could probably oversleep the end of the world.

"So you probably feel better now, right? I mean, I'm not that much of a lightweight." "Hmm" was his answer, paired with a shrug.  
"Great. Then I will light a fire and you can wash yourself today if you can stand! I just need to get some water." Matthew wriggled himself out of his burrito and climbed cumbersomely, over Matt, out of the bed. Matt watched everything with a little smirk on his face.


	18. Chapter 18

The fire burned and Matthew wrapped himself in heavy winter clothes once more to get some water at the nearby stream.

As he entered it again, the hut's air was snugly warm. He filled some water in a big jug and placed the rest in a corner with some cloths on the ground and an old towel nearby.

"What would you like to do first? Eating or washing yourself?"  
"I'll wash myself first." Matt fold back the furs and blankets and tried to stand up. He was clearly wobbly on his legs but could nevertheless stand by himself. Matthew, however, covered his face with his hands and said quickly: "I go to the basement – get something to eat." He went to the hatch quite hastily avoided Matt as far as possible.  
 _'Why am I this way? A few days ago I had no problems undress… when I found him.'_  
He grabbed some fruits in the basement as well as some potatoes to maybe make some chips.

By the time Matthew started cooking Matt dried himself.

The hours passed by way too fast. They shook out the bedding, washed Matthew's clothes, ate and played chess again. Matthew felt bad as he had to destroy the loose atmosphere between them:  
"I'm happy that you are almost recovered, Matt. But I can't stay here." As Matthew talked he examined Matt closely, fearing every possible reaction of him.

"That's a problem", he answered, "the fir destroyed my sledge and scared off my moose."  
"You had a moose?" asked Matthew surprised.  
"Yes?" proceeded Matt. "As long as it isn't thawing we can't go to any town." He blankly presented this fact and Matthew began to worry.  
 _'Waiting until it thaws? I can't wait that long! What should I do?'_ Matt must have noticed Matthews worried expression and asked: "Is it really this urgent?"  
He didn't look Matthew in the eye and Matthew's heart dived.  
 _'Matt… Please don't make things worse.'  
_ "Yes it is urgent. Even if it wasn't that urgent… I don't belong here in the wilderness like you do. Look at me. How long would I keep this up?" Matthew attempted to explain himself until finally some words slipped out of his mouth: "Why won't you come with me?"

Now it was Matt, who lifted his head in surprise. Matthews face, as so often in the last couple of days, turned red. "What am I saying… ha… ha…", he stuttered Matthew and ran his fingers nervously through his hair.  
"I can help you to get back home in spring", answered Matt and held still for a few moments until he continued carefully. "But Oliver could help you."  
"Oliver? Your foster father?"  
"Hmm", confirmed Matt.  
"Matthew, you know… I can't die, do you?" Matthew nodded. The conversation took an unexpected turn. What has that got to do with Oliver? How could he get Matthew out of the middle of nowhere, although Matt couldn't do it?  
"And I trust you that you won't blow about it. Therefore, I can tell you another thing."  
Matt paused again and searched for the right words.  
"On this world hundreds of countries exist...", he started and Matthew frowned. What was that? "And as the nature willed, it, however, created something odd." Matt beat around the bush which was very unusual for him. What was he trying to tell Matthew?  
Matt pondered to find the right words but gave up with a shaking head. "Ah, nonsense. I can't explain it to you, so… For every country in this world there exist a person, who represent it."

Matthews eyes widen. _'Don't tell me, he…'_

"I mean, really embodies it. I, for example, am Matt Williams and I embody the nation of Canada."


	19. Chapter 19

Matthew jumped off the chair.

"YOU? WHAT?" He wasn't able to say anything else _. 'How is this possible? Are there two of us? Then…?'_ He ran to the shelf and picked up the tree photographs just to hold them directly in front of Matts face.

"Tell me. Is he…", Matthew pointed at the photo of the tanned muscleman in it and almost pressed it in Matts face, "… your brother, the United States?"

Matt was clearly unable to cope with the situation. Nobody would have coped this reaction anyway.

"Is he?" hassled Matthew.  
"Yes", confirmed Matt, still shocked.  
"And he: Francois… is France?"  
"Yes?"  
"And Oliver, England?"  
"Yes. Matthew how do you…?"

Matthew was lost in an ineffable emotional chaos. He was restless, his hands didn't know what to do, so they did anything and he totally was totally unable to hear Matts question. His thoughts were louder more than anything in this world.  
 _'There are more of us? Someone second? Why don't we know them? Did someone knew that they exist but has never told any of us?'_  
Matt grabbed Matthew by the shoulder and interrupted his unsteady walk around the hut. He was dead serious. "How do you know this? Matthew?" Now his voice was imperious, awing. Matthew didn't even noticed the danger Matt involved and smiled unbelievingly. "You are too…"  
"Matthew, what are you talking about? Answer!" interrupted Matt with a voice, which would have made mountains shiver. Matthew would had also, if he wasn't freaked out already. Matt was taut like a bowstring and on the brink to loose himself.

"Matt! I... I'm also a nation!" Now Matt was the one losing his nerves. But in a completely different way than a second ago.  
"Also… a… nation? Why don't I know you? Which nation are you? Where is your country?"  
Matthew had no qualms to tell Matt his secret, which he hid from so many people for an enormous amount of time, right away. _'Now it no longer matters. And it is Matt who I will tell it. I'm sure I can tell him everything.'_

Matthew loosened the hands from his shoulders, took a step back and smiled his biggest smile: "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Matthew Williams, embodiment of the wonderful country Canada."

"Pardon?" asked Matt unbelieving.  
"I can't believe it myself, but why should I lie to you?"  
"Your family?"  
"Also. My brother Alfred F. Jones is the United States, Francis Bonnefoy France and Arthur Kirkland England."  
"How is this even possible?"  
"I don't know."  
The pause that followed felt endless. Like mannequins they stared at each other trying to figure the other one out. Like they were waiting for something odd to happen, that would expose this situation as a joke, a dream or an illusion. But everything was quite, standing at its place without an sign of unnatural behaviour.

"I thought we are all alone."  
Matthews face became soft. "Apparently not."

Within one second all tension fell off Matts body. He stepped forward and embraced Matthew tightly. He buried in Matthews crook of his neck and whispered: "Oh dear god…"  
Matthew responded it in the same way. Both of them didn't know if they should cry or laugh but they both were filled with an indescribable feeling of relief, happiness and sorrow, because they had live through all the ages and miseries all alone, although there was someone out there with who they could have shared their pain and secrets with.

This idea which Matthew thought to be a fact vanished into thin air. They were not alone on this earth.

 _'_ _And out of all possible people it is the hermit, who lives in the middle of nowhere… Matt it - out of all the people.'  
_ The time passed, but none of them tried to end the embrace or even loosen it. Matt broke the silence. "I'll come with you Matthew." Matthew couldn't find any words to answer. "Tomorrow morning I will call Oliver. He can take us away from here."  
"He also can perform magic?" whispered Matthew back. None of them moved an inch.  
"Of course, you can't?" "What? No. Can you?" "Not well. And much less teleportation magic. But yes, I can." "Wow." Breathed Matthew impressed.

Nightfall dimmed all light. The hut was completely dark except for a weak glow of the embers at the fireplace. Matt loosened the embrace slowly and Matthew did, too, but hesitantly. "It is late. Let's go to bed."  
"Yes." Agreed Matthew.  
"And this time…", Matt poked on Matthews forehead, "don't try to sleep on the chair or floor again."  
Matthew answered embarrassed: "All right."


	20. Chapter 20

Backaches woke Matthew up the next morning. With closed eyes he grumbled slightly until he noticed something odd.  
Was the mattress always this hard? Why didn't he bump into anything as he moved?  
Immediately he opened his eyes and could hardly believe what he saw.

He was in his bedroom, with his pillow and blanket.  
"Matt?" He whispered unbelieving.  
"Matt?"  
He got up from the floor, still wearing an oversized lumberjack-shirt and went to the door. He could hear voices next door. Worried voices.  
"Matt?"

In his living room sat Francis and Alfred. Arthur paced the room.  
"Alfred?"  
They stopped their animated conversation.

"MATTHEW!", shouted Alfred way too loudly and jumped of the sofa, which then slid serval meters through the room. "Matthew! You scared me to death! Not cool! Definitely! Not! Cool!" he said again in a strong voice, and nearly crushed Matthew as he hugged him.  
"Alfred you'll crush him to death!" Exhorted Arthur him from the background.  
"Oh! OH! Sorry bro! I didn't mean it! Is everything okay? Oops? You are still wearing these funny shirts?"  
"Careful, Alfred." Reassured Francis Alfred and laid a hand of his shoulder.

"Matthew already look really scared. First things first." He turned at Matthew. "Are you well, Matthew?" He nodded. Physically he was completely healthy.

 _'_ _What happened now? Why am I at home?'_

"I'm fine. Everything's great, Alfred, Francis."

"Where were you all the bloody time? Nobody could tell us!" Started Arthur, who accompanied them.  
 _'Yeah, where was I?'_

"I don't know, Arthur. I don't have the slightest idea." Matthew felt a painful stab in his chest.

 _'_ _When I'm back again, however, can I also get back to Matt? I have no idea where I was. How am I supposed to find him again? Did I lost him? He wanted to come with me!'_  
"What happened to your clothes? If you don't know where you were, then, maybe, you know about what happened?" asked Francis, who also placed his other hand on Matthews shoulder.  
Matthew hesitated to tell them about his journey. Apparently it was a dream after all. These three would dismiss it as a fantasy, maybe even as an drug trip. Matthew hasn't done drugs ever, yet he came up with this idea.

"No idea. I can't remember."

"WHAT?" Arthur spoke louder in lack of understanding. "How can't you remember anything about nearly four days?"

"Mon dieu, Arthur! Please calm down! He is here. Healthy and fine. And only THAT is important - wherever he was.", disciplined Francis Arthur with puckered brows.

"But four days?" "Arthur. I can't give you an answer to that. But Matthew can if he might remember it later on. Be quiet now!"  
Alfred looked sympathetically at Matthew and whispered plaintively: "Matthew..:"  
"Can I have a tea please?" asked Matthew in order to end the situation.  
"Of course!" answered Alfred prompt and way too enthusiastically.  
"Thank you. I have to organize my thoughts again." Matthew added.  
"Of course, Matthew. We will bring you tea and then we leave you alone so you can get clear about whatever had happened.", assured Francis and dragged the other two towards the kitchen.

As the door closed behind them, Matthew fell powerlessly on the sofa.


	21. Chapter 21

Resting his head in his hands, Matthew reflected as much as he could:

 _'_ _Was it just a dream? For over four days? That's not possible, isn't it? It felt so real back then. The cold, the exertion and the pain.'_ Incidentally he noticed, that he hasn't had one of the suffocating seizures the last days. _'It could have been hallucinations. How otherwise I was able to wake up in a winter-landscape with my bed. Therefore, I really must have been teleported in the wilderness to rescue Matt out of his coffin, in which he would have died over and over again without anything he could do about it. Or I was kidnapped by unknown men, for unknown reasons, who gave me strong drugs in those four days. Only to bring me back to my room with the sloppiest cover-up-work I can imagine. What is more believable? Drugs or a superhuman power, which showed me other nations, we have never met since our first existence?'_

He was suddenly pulled out of his thoughts, as the door was opened carefully. Alfred entered with a tray in his hand. Next to the tea there was a plate full of pancakes and maple syrup. Perfect ones. You could tell who made them just by looking at them. The cooking-skill of Francis was more unequivocal than his signature.

Thankfully, Matthew smiled at his brother.  
"Thank you, Alfred!"  
"No problem.", he replied. His face was still like the one of a begging, likeable puppy.  
"If I only can help you…?" he asked shy.  
"No. No, Alfred. Everything's okay. I'm fine. Just a little bit… confused."  
Alfred hesitated first, but as Matthew smiled calmingly at him, he trotted with a telling but meaningless "Hmm" out of the room.

Matthew already started drinking his tea and devouring Francis' perfect pancakes, as the three men left the flat. While he ate and drank he forbid himself to think of anything else and solely concentrated on every flavour of the tea and pancakes.


	22. Chapter 22 End of the mainstory

Hesitatingly he entered his room again. He feared that his bed and everything else could stand in the room again at its right places. He didn't want the last days to be only dreams, even if it was barely believable. He didn't know how to handle the situation if everything was just imagined.

The door swung open without a noise. Matthew stopped at the doorframe and looked in relief at the place his bed once stood. You could see the bright spots, where the bedposts flattened the thin carpet-floor. Of course his blanket and pillow were also there, laying messily around.

He went to the blanked and picked it up. He investigated every spot on it to find an abnormal hint, which shouldn't be on a normal blanket.

On one side of the blanket he found white drying marks, which you could also find on shoes, drying from the wetness of winter. He let the blanket sink back on the floor. This was all evidence he needed for being sure what theory to believe.

He turned away from the blanket.  
Two steps to his wardrobe.  
Seven buttons to open.

As he let the shirt slip off his shoulders, so also his confusion and doubts slipped of his mind.  
As he put on the new clothes in the wardrobe he got determined.

He pulled over the sweater and headed in the direction of the door. At the doorframe he stopped again and glanced over his shoulder and focused on the shirt, which laid on the floor.

"I'm going to find you. Wait for me."

Matthew closed the door behind him and went to his phone. He would call Arthur, Francis and Alfred to tell them he was alright. They don't have to worry about him as he had a goal. He didn't want to lose any time.

If Matt was there, somewhere in this world, Matthew would find him.

~~End~~


	23. Epilogue 1

Hesitatingly he tipped in the number. With every single number he tipped he asked himself over and over again whether it was wise to tell someone about this matter. Until now he didn't dare to tell anybody.  
Would he believe him? Would he stay quiet about this?  
 _'Papa once told me he made it through a similar situation. I cried back then, but I learned my lesson, not to let any human near me. He should understand.'_

It rang a few times until somebody picked up.  
"I wish you a wonderful morning lady or gentleman!" chirped Feliciano happily in an heavy Italian accent through the receiver.  
"Ahhh! Feliciano! Quando risponderai al telefono come un uomo normal!" Matthew could hear Lovino grumbling in the background.

 _'_ _These crazy brothers! But Feliciano noticed on the spot a canadian number called him. Fascinating.'  
_ "Io auguro una buona giornata a ti, Feliciano. Qui parla Matthew!" he responded.

He quickly pulled his phone away from his ear as the answer was deafeningly loud.  
"MATTHEW! WHAT A WONDERFUL SURPRISE! How can I help you my friend?" Again, Lovino was swearing in the background.

"I have a request for you but I want to talk about it in person. How about this weekend?"  
This time he precautionally held his phone away from his ear.

"REALLY?! OH HOW MARVELOUS! LOVI! LOVI! WE'RE GOING TO HAVE A GUEST!"  
This time Lovino just sighted theatrically.  
"Yes of course, Matthew! We already look forward to it, don't we, Lovi?"  
"Yeah, yeah. Everyone is better, than the morbidly sunshine of a Spaniard or the stupid potato in it's old-fashioned rompers."  
You could hear Feliciano leaping for joy through the receiver.

"Feliciano? Is it possible to pick me up at the airport when I'll land?"  
"Of course Matthew!"  
Matthew quickly gave his overly euphoric conversation partner his flight number as well as the time of arrival, which he had looked up before. Then he said goodbye for about half an hour until he could finally hang up.

Next he immediately booked his flight and printed out the board-card.

I did my best with the short italian parts - corrections are welcome!


	24. Epilogue 2

The next weekend Matthew entered the plane with feeling fairky queasy but there was no way back as the plane took off the taxiway.

A few hours later he landed in Rome.  
You could spot Feliciano from miles away in the sizeable crowd. He waved violently with his arms at Matthew as he spotted him. His clothes were so excellent they had probably been made by an excellent tailor about ten minutes ago. His style could clearly would make a noble expression to others if he didn't act like a joyful, little child shouting out Matthews name all over the place with pure happiness and waving his arms so intesively, one feared they might fall off every second.

Matthew couldn't help himself and smiled and promptly felt bad for not having trusted Feliciano until now.  
The warm autumn defended his place against the winter in Italy, therefore it was mild outside of the airport. The violent waving of Felicianos arms only stopped when they got in his shiny, really expensive car and he was able to lay his hands on the steering wheel to then race all too fast to Felicianos and Lovinos house. In that moment Matthew understood why Kiku refused to share a car with Feliciano ever again when Feliciano was the driver.

Feliciano insisted to prepare a welcome meal even after Matthew had tried to convince him that it wasn't necessary. But he had to give up after a few attempts. Lovino didn't interfere. Why should he decline a well-made meal?

Even while they were eating Feliciano talked nineteen to the dozen about anything and everything, which Lovino and Matthew simply submitted to. After they had eaten Feliciano infected Matthew with his happy mood – just Lovino seemed to be immune to it – which cleared all of his doubts. Lovino escaped the situation right after he had finished the meal and the other two were all by themselves. While they were doing the dishes asked Feliciano asked finally: "So Matthew… How can I assist you?"  
 _'So now it starts.'_ Matthew took a deep breath and remembered the conversation he made up while on the plane.  
"I search for someone." "Oh, in Italy?" "No, not here. He must be somewhere in Canada, I suppose. But I don't even have a picture of him. Francis told me how splendid you are in drawing portraits of people you are only told about."  
Feliciano stopped and saw up to Matthew with gentle, soft eyes. Ancient sorrow was in them and Matthew regretted his request deeply.

 _'_ _We nations barely forget anything. It was a mistake to ask him. Now he remember everything. I should have just hired a phantom-graphic. You big ignorant idiot Matthew!'_

"Yes I have certain practise. I'm glad if I can help you finding him. Let us go to my studio right away." He declared and dried his hands. With a little wave he told Matthew to follow him upstairs.


	25. Epilogue 3 End of the sidestory

"Please, take a seat." He asked Matthew and offered him a chair, which looked as if it has been drenched in paint several times. Maybe it would be way smaller if the paint was removed? Nevertheless Matthew sat down restlessly because of his growing strain. Next to him stood an enormous drawing table with a slanting table top. At its edge many pencils of multiple form and hardness were piled.

"Sooooo!" said Feliciano, again with a bright smile on his face. "Let's start! Describe him too me! Wait, did you ever let someone draw a composite sketch?"  
Matthew shook his head lightly. At home he tried out some programs to make a portrait but the character adjustments of Sims would be more exact than those programs. Asking Feliciano to help him was therefore his plan B.

"You have to do it step by step. At first describe me the form of his head. How is his face formed? How his chin? …"  
Stiffly Matthew started to describe Matt, corrected himself so often that his tongue made made it no longer possible to produce helpful sentences. Feliciano calmed him down and asked Matthew to close his eyes so that he could create a clear picture of Matt right in front of his eyes.  
Second attempt. After a short time Matthew started to chat freely about Matt. He digressed from the pure description of just forms and colours and also started telling Feliciano about his time in the hut. And then Feliciano began to draw on paper with a scratching pencil.

"His face seem to be blank. Like Lovino always looking annoyed, his face seems motionless and indifferent. But if someone took a closer look he would see how full of live it is. He has tiny laugher lines in his wrinkles and his eyes are strong and honest, direct and somewhat proud. Also he has thick eyebrows but really finely swung as one shallow wave."  
"How is his hair?" threw Feliciano in quickly. "His hair? It is reaching to his shoulders but he always binds it in a loose ponytail. It is coloured like straw with darker and lighter streaks and they are also as unruly as straw but a bit curly. Next to his forehead he has a split fringe which reaches, depending on how he slept the night before, to his cheekbones or to his mouth. One streak always escape this strict division and hang diagonally over his nose. As if it wants to reach the other side." Matthew underlined his description with gestures even though Feliciano might have not seen them.

"Great, great!" Feliciano clapped joyfully with his hands. "Look at it. Is it him?"

Matthew slowly opened his eyes and froze in reverence. He looked in Matts face, banned in black and white on a piece of paper. Feliciano surpassed all of Matthews expectation.

"That's exactly him, Feliciano." He breathed, totally captured by this lifelike portrait. He didn't dare to look away, fearing it could disappear, like Matthew did in the night. How did Matt feel when he couldn't find Matthew the next morning?  
Feliciano jumped happily.  
"Wonderful! Even when he look a little bit scary… Matthew?"  
Matthew was lost in his own thoughts and painfully thinking about the lost one in the middle of the forest _. 'How is Matt now? How did he react as he found himself all alone in the hut? Did he contacted Oliver nevertheless? Is he also searching for me right now? I hope he won't put himself into danger because of me.'_  
Feliciano stooped his joyful movements and seemed like another person the next second. Quietly, barely whispering he asked: "Do you love him?" His voice sounded so entirely different when he talked so silky like floss. That was not like the emotional abundance like he usually was.

Matthew was immediately down-to-earth again and laughed nervously as Feliciano asked. Again, his hand didn't know what to do, so they started to wave around aimlessly.  
"I.. do what?" embarrassed his eyes wandered from Feliciano and to the other side of the room again and again.  
"I.. him..?"  
Feliciano gave Matthew his brightest and all-knowing smile. It broke right through Matthews wall of awkwardness. Of course Feliciano was right. Matthew questioned himself how he could have been soblind and stubborn until that moment. Did he really need another person to realize this simple fact? At the latest the hug he should have shown him this.

Matthew missed him. Badly. He was constantly pulled away from here and to the place where Matt is. However, this feeling couldn't tell him where it was. Matthew was only sure that he was at the wrong place in every moment.  
"It seems so.", he answered Feliciano, whose face turned into a endlessly doleful expression even though he was still smiling. "And he went away?"  
"No. No!" bursted Matthew out way to loud and rash. "He didn't leave me! We just… lost sight of one another. That's why I'm searching for him."  
Feliciano briefly focused on something Matthew couldn't see, just to get grip of himself the next second and quickly staring on the floor. Still smiling he said bittersweetly: "Then I wish you to have more luck than I had."

Felicianos sight was heart-wrenching. _'Papa was right. Who had Feliciano lost so that he is so broken?'_  
"I'm sure that I'll find him, Feliciano." In fact, Matthew wasn't sure but it was so wrong seeing Feliciano being that crestfallen. Somehow it must be possible to cheer him up.  
Silently Feliciano attempted to hand over the portrait to Matthew. Matthew wanted to take it, but Feliciano took it back before Matthew could touch it.  
"It just crossed my mind that I have a fitting portfolio for the picture I can give you. Please, go downstairs as first. I will follow later when I found the folder. After that, I have to show you around now that you're here!"  
"Thank you, Feliciano." Said Matthew and left the sunny studio.

Downstairs Felicano handed Matthew a portfolio made of grey and abrasive cardboard, closed with a little ribbon.  
Matthew took is carefully and Feliciano added: "I wish you all the luck in the world for your search." Matthew thanked him with a smile.  
While Feliciano was giving him a crash course of the Roman sights the rest of the day, they didn't bring up the topic again. The afternoon passed by peacefully except that Matthew's feet hurt from walking around so much as he went to bed at night.

Feliciano raced with the same suicidal speed to the airport like the first time. Matthew felt so uneasy he clung to the car's handhold like his life depends on it. It wouldn't be surprising if Matthews imprints in the leather of the handhold weren't the first ones.

Then, Matthew flew back to Canada, starting his search right after the landing. Before his trip to Rome he had spent a couple of days and nights leaning over maps of his country in order to narrow the searching area with the few information he had.  
Everything was prepared, the equipment, the money he needed to travel and the contact details he collected in every settlement in the middle of Canada.  
Now he could find Matt. And it didn't matter to Matthew, if he had to walk miles over miles through heavy snow until finally tripping over a snowedbound bed in the middle of nowhere.

~~~~Epilogue End~~~~


End file.
